


Three Months and Nine Days

by feelinglikecleo



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captain Ghafa, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Its Just Some Fun, Jesper Living The Van Eck Mansion, Kaz Touching, Miracle Touching, My Favourite Kind Of Ghafa, Not Quite Tooth Rotting But Close, One Shot, POV Inej Ghafa, Reunions, SO FLUFFY, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touching, What the Hell, im not over it, what can i say, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelinglikecleo/pseuds/feelinglikecleo
Summary: it’d been three months, nine days, and five hours since inej last saw kaz. they’d said goodbye on the roof of the slat, standing a hands breadth apart. separated by early afternoon sun and trauma.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63
Collections: Kaz and Inej Fanfics





	Three Months and Nine Days

it’d been three months, nine days, and five hours since inej last saw kaz. they’d said goodbye on the roof of the slat, standing a hands breadth apart. separated by early afternoon sun and trauma.

“say goodbye, kaz,” she’d said when too many seconds had passed. “i don’t know how long i’ll be gone.”

he’d smiled at her. it was a miserly, crooked thing, that smile—kaz all over. and despite her best efforts, she’d smiled back before shaking her head, “no mourners.”

“no funerals.”

with that, she’d leapt to the next rooftop and the next and the next, until kaz and the slat melted into ketterdam’s tangled horizon to be replaced by the flat expanse of the ocean.

that first day on the ship, inej had enjoyed the same prickle of anticipation she felt whenever she stepped out onto the high wire. her whole body taught and focused on the sway of the wire, the push of the air, the pull of her weight. this was her element and she would master it as she had everything else.

the weeks had flown by in a crash of waves, foaming at the break.

inej saw no less than five slavers bleed out by her hand. though she still prayed for every soul, she came to relish the taste of their desperation. the night she’d killed the first and second, their “cargo” safely stowed in the belly of her ship, inej had dreamed of kaz’s face as she recounted how sweetly the men had begged. celebrating with her crew, although jubilant, had whetted her appetite for celebrating with him.

it was only when, from her position in the crow’s nest, inej watched kerch spill across the horizon that she grew anxious about her return. _what_ exactly _was she returning to, anyway?_

communication had been difficult at sea and they’d only made port twice, neither time for very long. now that she thought about it, it had been a while, things could have changed.

chin resting on her fist, inej watched the coastline grow jagged, the towers and spires of his city coming into focus against smoky skies. she’d miss the open sea but this—she almost smiled. jesper would laugh himself hoarse if he knew she’d missed this saints-forsaken city. she did smile then, picturing it.

/

she lands lightly on the deck just as her first mate, a hassled-looking specht, calls for the crew to bring them into port. ana, a sharp-jawed ravkan they’d found making trouble off the coast of novyi zem, hops nimbly overboard, spring-line in hand. the ship is securely moored and the gangplank lowered, ten minutes later.

“don’t forget,” inej calls over the noise of her crew disembarking. “we’re shipping out in two weeks, i want everything stocked and ready for departure by the morning before.”

“aye, captain!” comes the answering chorus.

“do try and enjoy your downtime, captain.” specht winks at inej as he makes his way down the gangplank, luggage in hand.

after everyone leaves, inej double checks the lines and the sails, does a quick sweep of her office, and grabs her bag. she’s almost to the door, when she hears footsteps on the deck. light and ambling, she recognises them instantly.

“captain ghafa.” 

jesper, every lean and easy inch of him, reclines against the main mast. he’s totally out of place in his lime and yellow wardrobe but inej can’t imagine a happier sight. 

with mock seriousness, he says, “i heard rumours of your return and had to come see for myself.”

she flies across the deck, her arms around his shoulders, before he can so much as blink. inej feels, more than hears, the soft rumble of his laugh. he pulls back from her, eyes warm and smiling. “i missed you too.”

“i was going to come by geldstraat first thing. you didn’t have to come all the way out here,” inej says.

“couldn’t risk it.” he shakes his head, reaching for her bag and looping an arm through hers. “besides, wylan’s been flapping around the house like a deranged mother hen all afternoon getting ready for you. i was only getting in the way.”

“how is he?”

“wylan? spectacular. two weeks ago, while he was playing his flute, marya started singing. turns out she has a really sweet voice—nothing like alys—and—” inej swats at his chest, biting back a laugh at the poor girl’s expense. “ _and_ it seems to be drawing her out. ever since she started singing she’s been spending more time downstairs, talking with the servants, with wylan…”

they make their way across the docks at a leisurely pace as jesper fills her in on the ketterdam happenings and by the time the van eck mansion looms before them, she’s all caught up.

watching jesper let himself in is strange, he throws her a look that tells her he sympathises. “i’m not sure i’ll ever get used to it.”

a response is on her tongue, something pithy and reassuring, when the door swings open to a riot of voices. inej blinks, the only sign of her surprise.

there, in the foyer of the van eck house, stand pim, rotty, anika, wylan and kaz— _kaz—_ dressed to the nines, party-blowers between their teeth. _WELCOME HOME, INEJ_ is scrawled across a banner the width of the landing and every bannister in sight is draped in bunting and paper chains.

a laugh bubbles out of inej, squeezing past the shock that keeps her rooted to the spot. the coaxing touch of jesper’s hand releases her and she rushes inside, clapping her hands together and gasping in delight.

“jesper!” she turns back to him. “wylan! everyone—this—this is—” she cuts herself off and sighs, hands clasped over her heart. “i don’t know what to say.”

“don’t say anything,” wylan says, reaching for her hand. “come, we have cake!”

she follows him into the parlour where food and wine are laid out around the centrepiece that is a truly enormous cake.

for a moment, inej stands and gapes at it. “is nina inside that thing?”

“unfortunately not. she’s been out of touch for a while, something about a top secret grisha mission,” wylan shrugs apologetically.

“upside, that means all of us will at least get a slice.” this from jesper, who’s moved to sling an arm around wylan’s narrow shoulders. “maybe two!”

there’s a worried little divot forming between wylan’s brows, so, although she misses nina more with every glance at the cake, inej says, “it’s perfect.”

jesper picks up a plate and begins loading food onto it, shooing wylan over to the pianoforte around a mouthful of croquette. over the first strains of music, anika and pim welcome her back and rotty tells her they still don’t have a new spider if she’s considering giving up the high seas.

looking around, inej thinks she might be dreaming. all these people, under one roof, eating and drinking and laughing. in three months at sea she and her crew had developed an easy camaraderie, hurried along by a half-dozen life-threatening situations. but, inej discovers, it has nothing on the kinship she shares with these people. her fondness threatens to overtake her.

food, she needs food.

with a plate in hand, inej settles onto a chaise with a view of wylan at the pianoforte. his eyes are closed and his tongue is just visible, poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration. behind him, jesper has one hand against the back of his neck, fingers in his curls, and the other wrapped around a glass of wine as he chats with anika. across the room, pim and rotty squabble over the last glass of what looks like something expensive and distilled.

 _since when have_ _things been this easy between everyone?_

when the seat beside her dips slightly under another’s weight, inej realises with a jolt she hasn’t been paying attention to her immediate surroundings.

“now that’s the face i got dragged to a party for, you can’t put a price on that.”

when her eyes widen further, that smile, the deliciously crooked one, slides across kaz’s face. it pulls mercilessly at inej’s heart. _how she’d missed that smile._ she tucks her hands under her thighs to stop from reaching out to trace a finger over the quirk of his lips.

“you didn’t come for the cake, then?” she wants to look away but the warmth in his darker-than-sin eyes gives her no quarter. inej is sure he’s never looked at her this way, like if he stopped she might vanish.

“no,” he says.

as simple as that. _does_ _that mean he came for her?_

suddenly, inej can’t remember how she used to sit when she sat next to the boy she dreams about at night. _should she keep her hands under her legs?_ no, she’s already losing feeling in her fingers. _should she lean back like he is? pull her legs under herself? face him? turn away?_

surely, it isn’t this complicated. inej sighs and pulls her braid over one shoulder, moving to sit crossed legged on the chaise. when she glances back at kaz, he’s watching her curiously. the wraith doesn’t fidget.

“you look—”

“who’s idea was—”

inej bites her lip to stifle her smile. they’re so out of sync.

the silence isn’t awkward, exactly, but it draws on when neither of them continue. around them, conversation ebbs and flows. wylan gets up from the piano and cuts himself a big slice of cake. inej watches him feed it to jesper, the frosting startlingly white against the taller boy’s dark skin.

“who’s idea was this?” inej finally speaks, gesturing to the party.

kaz’s gaze flicks across the room briefly, before landing back on her. “wylan’s. he made it seem very urgent that we welcome you back in a suitably enthusiastic fashion. something about convincing you to stay.”

“that’s not a terrible idea. if i could be sure there’d be more cake in the future, i’d consider it.”

“not much cake at sea?”

“no. none, really. it’s quite sad.”

“nina would disapprove.”

“almost certainly. i—i didn’t know how much i missed cake until today.” inej catches kaz’s eye as she says this and forgets, or rather remembers, what they’re talking about. “you won’t believe how much pickled fish i’ve eaten these last three months.”

“and nine days.”

“and nine days…” she’s blushing now, she can feel the heat rising up her neck, staining her cheeks. from the way his gaze drops to the neckline of her vest, inej knows he sees it too. “how’s business?”

if the shift in conversation surprises him, he doesn’t let on. “good,” he nods. “other than a few skirmishes, haskell’s been lying low and keeping out of trouble. the new shop on the lid is a veritable bread factory for the number of pigeons its bringing in, which bodes well for my other expansions in the neighbourhood.”

“other expansions?” inej brings an elbow up onto the back of the chaise, resting her temple against her closed fist.

it enters gradually, their rhythm, like early morning fog. talking about business, about hustles and scams, they settle into the chaise and into each other. kaz shifts slightly toward her and she toward him as he expounds on his plans to rule ketterdam. 

inej watches his hands, startled to realise they’re bare, ungloved, naked, as he mimes cracking a particularly challenging safe. those nimble, thief’s fingers communicating all the excitement his rock salt voice doesn’t. 

it should be embarrassing, her fixation on his hands. the bone-white scar over his knuckle shifts with his movement and she can’t look away from it. she imagines him tracing the fine bones in her wrist with those fingers, over the flutter of her pulse and the soft skin at the inside of her elbow.

when kaz does a very passable impression of wylan drunk on kvas flirting with a lamppost he mistook for jesper, inej laughs like she hasn’t in ages. she leans forward, arm over her belly and hand over her mouth, as he slurs and simpers.

“you’re making me work awwfully hard, jesss,” kaz whimpers, eyes round and beseeching.

“he didn’t!” inej gasps, slouching forward. 

she thinks she might pull a muscle with how hard she’s laughing. jesper’s even looked over once or twice to see what the fuss is about but seems disinclined to interrupt.

she doesn’t notice right away, but as she takes a few deep, steadying breaths, inej realises she’s slipped forward on the chaise. her knee rests lightly against kaz’s thigh. it’s a slight pressure. barely noticeable. she looks up and kaz is still talking, a reluctant smile on his mouth.

for several seconds, the feeling of his thigh against her knee, the warmth of his body through their clothing, is all she can focus on.

whether its the rush of being reunited, the sweet, disorienting joy of being in each others company after months of absence, or the wine from the empty glass he’s put on the floor, that keeps kaz from noticing, inej doesn’t know. either way, she can’t bear even the thought of his shutting himself off at the realisation. so, summoning her not inconsiderable will power, she pulls her leg away.

or, at least, that was the plan.

quite unexpectedly and with a confidence she cannot begin to fathom, kaz closes his hand around her knee. the shape of his hand, even ungloved, is so familiar to her that she almost dismisses the dissonance of seeing it resting on her leg. almost.

she’s staring. 

she knows she’s staring but kaz— _kaz_ —is touching her. deliberately. precisely.

the sensation is so jarring, so unbelievably wanted that she can’t help but smile. his thumb traces a line over the fabric of her trousers, heart-wrenchingly gentle and _deliberate_. 

she looks up to find him watching her.

inej is too caught up in the feeling of his palm, large and warm on the part of her thigh just before her knee, too caught up in the tick at the corner of his mouth and the colour of his eyes, to think about what it means that she is celebrating a victory so small. the voice that whispers about the boys who would kiss her without fear is entirely drowned out by the boy who faces his fears so that he might kiss her. one day.

“is this okay?” he asks.

“this is perfect,” she whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr, i hope it finds a life here. lmk if you liked it, comments and kudos always appreciated!


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